"I know you have." She met his eyes unflinchingly. "But you
sha'n't rob him."

Jim thrust his thin face close to hers, and she saw that it was
distorted with rage. "If you don't want to go home, stay here.
He's going with me."

"We'll see."

She turned, but he seized her roughly. "What are you going to do?"
he demanded.

"I'm going to tell him he's being taken to a crooked gambling-
house, and that you're working for Max Melcher. He isn't too drunk
to understand that."

Her brother clenched his fist menacingly, but she did not recoil,
and he thought better of his impulse.

"Are you grand-standing?" he queried, brutally. "Are you stuck on
the boob? or do you want your bit?"

Without reply she walked back to the cab, redirected the driver to
the Charlevoix, then seated herself beside Wharton, who was
already sinking into a stupor. Jim slunk in behind her, and they
were whirled southward.

It was a silent ride, for the besotted young millionaire slept,
and Jim dared not trust himself to speak. Lorelei closed her eyes,